


Refuge

by Flarenwrath



Category: Warcraft - All Media Types, World of Warcraft
Genre: Blood and Violence, M/M, Past Relationship(s), Slavery, Temporary Amnesia, Undead, Wrath of the Lich King - AU
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-19
Updated: 2018-05-19
Packaged: 2019-05-09 01:21:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,088
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14706434
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Flarenwrath/pseuds/Flarenwrath
Summary: As the plague decends upon Durotar, Rehgar takes his gladiators back to Orgrimmar for safety. But what will happen when Garrosh is reunited with the slave (Lo'Gosh) that he had fallen for? And what does the call to Northrend mean for Alliance slaves living amongst the Horde.





	Refuge

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Laeviss](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Laeviss/gifts).
  * Inspired by [For Your Company](https://archiveofourown.org/works/7485030) by [Laeviss](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Laeviss/pseuds/Laeviss). 



> This has been bouncing around my head for the better part of 8 years now, so I figure its about time to bring back some good ol Lich King content.

Lo’Gosh frowned as he watched silently as Rehgar yelled in rapid Orcish at what looked to be an equally annoyed one-eyed Goblin. He had come prepared to fight; wearing custom made Orcish armor- the kind that was expensive, if you asked Rehgar- and was specifically designed to fit his much smaller human frame. He had his hair pulled up and back into an orcish style that was 'fitting' for a warrior, and the ever-present metal collar hung around his neck as a show to the world that despite it all, he was property. 

However, in spite of all of his efforts to ready himself for combat it was becoming clearer and clearer to him that all of his preparations may have been a waste.  
Even though he had spent over a year among the Horde as slave to an orc, there were times when either passions flared, or when an accent was too thick, or when the speaker simply spoke too quickly that he couldn't keep up with Orcish. 

This time, while watching his Master live up to his surname of 'fury', it was the latter. From what select words he was able to catch and put together, though, it sounded like his suspicions were right... there wasn't going to be any fighting tonight. And judging by how Rehgar's lip curled and he spat a long string of curses, there wasn't going to be any fights for the foreseeable future.

The orc was an intimidating sight; draped over his head and shoulders was the half pelt of a grey wolf that, according to some, he had killed with his own hands. His shoulders armored with silver plated pauldrons that were finely crafted into the shape of wolf heads baring their teeth, a leather kilt trimmed with detailings of fur, and wrapped around his waist a belt made of chain. The same chain that had once kept him in bonds of slavery.

"Waste my time again, Geemis, and refunding tickets will be the least of your concerns!" Rehgar snapped, clenching his fist and sending sparks of lightning down the claws of his fist weapon as a show of force.

"Hey, hey, hey!!" Geemis shouted back, holding a hand out as though that would keep the orc at bay. "You ain't the only one losing gold here! You think I would be shutting down if I didn't have to?" The goblin snapped his fingers and a young female goblin with unnaturally bright blue hair came running over. In her hands a bag jingled with the telltale sound of coin.  
"But, considering we friends and all-" Geemis continued, seemingly ignorant to the snarling orc that was only moments away from electrocuting him to ash. "Why don't I refund your entrance fee!" The young goblin woman offered the pouch to Rehgar with a cheerful, albeit fake, smile. 

Without even looking, Rehgar snatched the pouch of gold out of the small girl's hands. He tossed it up in the air and caught it again with practiced ease before growling out another threat, "This is too light, Geemis..."

"Hey, hey hey!!" Geemis shouted again, his voice taking a nervous edge as he grabbed the goblin girl's shoulder and all but yanked her away from the orc. "All terms say 10% non-refundable! I ain't breaking my contracts! Not even for you!"

Upon seeing Rehgar's lips curl into another tusk bared snarl as his fingers flexed again with sparks of electricity, Lo’Gosh took it as his moment to intercede. 

"There is no profit to be made here, we should stop wasting our time,” he offered. Lo’Gosh knew better than to talk back to his Master, especially in this kind of a mood, but he would prefer not to have to shed blood fighting Geemis's body guards on account of Rehgar's impulsivity.

A long moment of silence washed over the four of them before Rehgar finally relented. "You're right... But next time you want to profit off my champions-" the orc slaver pointed a finger at Geemis, "I'm taking a 15% cut of your total profits." Geemis swallowed audibly but didn’t argue. 

Without another word Lo’Gosh and Rehgar left the stadium.

Lo’Gosh walked in silence down the dirt road back towards the slaver's camps, a few paces at all times behind his "owner.” But no matter how much he tried to avoid thinking about it, the seriousness of Rehgar's tone during the argument was getting the better of his curiosity. 

"What did he say to you?" he finally asked.

"There is a disease spreading through Durotar..." Rehgar muttered in response. 

Now that they were well enough away from the goblin's fighting pit to no longer be watched, the orc let his true concern bleed through, painting his face with a contemplative frown. "Whatever it is, it’s bad enough that the surrounding villages have been decimated."

A spark of something akin to dread lanced through Lo’Gosh's chest. For the entire time that he had known his Master, he had never seen the orc worry before. And that alone was reason for concern. 

"So what does that mean for us...?"

"For one, it means you and the elves are not eating tonight!" That much was expected as they had all been trained well to understand that if you do not work, you do not eat.  
"For two-" Rehgar halted suddenly and turned to face the human. "It means we're heading to Orgrimmar."

~~~~~~~~~~~

Lo’Gosh rubbed at the thickened and scarred skin of his bare neck as they rode in the back of a broken-down cart towards the wall of the city, watching Valeera chatter about something with Broll. The girl's glowing green eyes, contrasting sharply with her bright red clothes, always glinted with barely contained mischief as she twisted and toyed with the strands of her long blond hair that escaped the confines of her pony tail.

Whenever she was deprived of her daggers for too long, she would always manage to find something else to anxiously fiddle with. Lo’Gosh had long ago assumed it was how she expressed her distress at being a captive without receiving reprimand.

Broll, in turn, was showing an unprecedented display of patience for the young girl: nodding in time to her fast-paced one-sided conversation and making the occasional grunt of acknowledgement to encourage her to continue. 

With the hot Durotar sun beating down on them, Lo’Gosh wondered how Broll could stand it... He was already sweating wearing just the threadbare linen shirt and soft hide breeches with his hair pulled up similarly to Valeera's own pony tail, but the night elf seemed unphased despite his thick coarse hair and beard and heavy layers of fur pelts.

At the front of the cart, holding the reins of a malnourished kodo, sat Rehgar who, to his benefit, was managing to ignore all of them in favor of watching the road. 

Lo’Gosh had actually been shocked when Rehgar removed their chains that morning, but he had explained that the Warchief Thrall had been cracking down on City Slavers in recent months and the last thing they needed was to be denied entry to Orgrimmar with an epidemic spreading around them.

As their little cart rode past abandoned farms houses and crossroads devoid of guards or travelers, it was becoming clearer and clearer to him that whatever was spreading was not a regular sickness and that their only hope of wading through the storm was behind the safety of the city walls.

Lo’Gosh licked his suddenly dry lips, that had nothing to do with the heat of the desert, as his mind wandered to other -things- that hid behind Orgrimmar's walls. 

Memories of large orcish hands gripping his hips tighter than they meant to, bright gold eyes that were too honest-too sensitive for someone of his station, and of whispered promises of freedom... That is, before those whispers reached Rehgar's ears and the lot of them were suddenly relocating to Dire Maul and making the rounds in the small-time fighting pits.  
At some level deep in his core- the part of him that existed before he woke up half drowned on the shore, perhaps- he knew what Rehgar did was for the best, but 'for the best' or no, Lo’Gosh was still devastated to have left Orgrimmar in the first place. So, while he knew that their reasoning for returning to the city was no joking matter, he found it hard not to be at least a little glad that it was bringing him back. 

Back to him.

"So, what do you think Lo’Gosh?" Valeera's sharp voice cut through his mind's wandering thoughts. "When we make it through the city gates, should we overpower the old man there and make a break for it?" Her eyes glinted with the promise of trouble.

"You can try." Rehgar snapped back before Lo’Gosh had a chance to reply, "But, knowing Thrall, the city will be on a cautionary lock down. Which means supplies will be at an all-time premium." The orc looked over his shoulder at his slaves with a knowing smirk. "Feel free to leave if you want, but without my gold you'll be starving on the streets in days."

Valeera lets out a loud huff and stomped her tiny foot on the wood floor of the cart. Broll placed a comforting hand on her shoulder and spoke in that knowing way that all night elves do: "Now isn't the time for games. We should stay together until this crisis is over, at least."

Lo’Gosh only managed a nod of agreement before Rehgar cut them off again, pulling on the kodo's reins to slow his pace, "Save it for later! We're here!"

Valeera pushed past him and Broll to the front of the cart to gasp in awe at the city gates. He couldn't blame her really, feeling a sense of amazement himself at the Gate of Orgrimmar: a huge wall built almost entirely of stone and mortar spanning from one end of the mountain chasm to the other. 

The first time he had seen it without being behind bars  
.  
It must have been because of this that he almost didn't notice that their cart wasn't heading to the open check point he remembered, but instead towards a long caravan of refugees, full of women and children, lined up in front of a barricaded gate defended by well-armed orcish soldiers. 

"Stay on guard..." Rehgar muttered through clenched jaw as their cart came to a stop.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The lot of poor farming orcs and tauren had abandoned their carts and wagons and were forming a small mob in front of the city gates.

"You can't do this!" one woman yelled. 

Another young tauren added, "We're members of the Horde too! You can't keep us out like this!" 

With each exclamation, the overall anger and distress of the mob rose.

"You have to let us in," an older orcish woman pleaded to the unresponsive line of soldiers guarding the gate. "My child is sick and needs a shaman!"

It was only then that a thickly built dark green skinned orcish captain pushed his way through the defending line of soldiers to face the crowd. 

"Orgrimmar is under quarantine,” he announced, voice booming over the crowd and effectively silencing the mob's cries. "Those who have been exposed to the plague are barred from entering the city, by the Warchief's orders!"

Standing a good few feet away from the back of the mob, Lo’Gosh shot Broll a concerned look: one that was normally reserved for the arena when the odds were stacking against them. The night elf clenched his jaw and nodded in return, taking a protective step closer to Valeera.

It wasn't long before the mob's pleading escalated, and an orc woman collapsed in the middle of the crowd, causing her mate to let out a sharp cry for help.  
Lo’Gosh noticed that instead of rushing to help, the guards nervously looked at one another as though dreading... something. He placed a hand on his swords. Whatever was about to happen, it was going to end in bloodshed.

"If these guards will do nothing,” a large tauren snorted as he pushed his way through the crowd to the unconscious woman. He knelt down and checked for a pulse as her mate sobbed inconsolably. The tauren let out a long sigh and placed his hand on the sobbing woman's shoulder, "I'm sorry ma'am... your mate- she's..."  
An unnatural shriek pierced the air.

The mate ceased her sobbing, only to look down in terror at the dead woman's body which had begun twitching and thrashing as it rapidly started to decompose into something monstrous. There wasn't any time for anyone to react before the ghoulish woman lunged out and sank her teeth into the tauren's arm and ripping out a large chunk of bloody flesh.  
Lo’Gosh was stunned. He had seen orcs and forsaken before in the ring, but never anything like this. 

Rehgar cursed something colorful next to him before readying his weapons. It was the only sign he needed before he drew his own blades as well.

The mob of refugees were sent into a panic, some trying to flee on foot and others turning to plead with even greater desperation to the guards. Bodies pressed against one another as the group tried to force their way past the line of guards. 

However, they were only met with drawn weapons and shields, holding them at bay.

"No one is entering Orgrimmar!" the captain barked, his voice barely heard over the panicked screams and cries of terror. 

Another ghoulish shriek echoed through the canyon, stunning everyone to silence, as the undead woman turned her attention on the crowd. Her body staggered for a few unsteady steps, before crouching low and picking up pace to a sprint. 

A young troll let out a scream as the ghoul dove at him. 

Living up to his given name, Lo’Gosh quickly dashed between them, raising his blades at the last second to the troll's defense. The ghoul shrieked her displeasure as her claws uselessly raked against the metal of the swords instead of carving into flesh.

"Go!” He snapped at the refugees behind him, "I'll hold her back!"

Refugees pushed even harder against the line of guards, so desperate to live that they no longer cared about being cut on their weapons. 

The captain swallowed as he took in the chaos. There was only one way to follow his orders and maintain the quarantine, and he was not going to disappoint his Warchief.  
"Let none pass..." he muttered darkly, audible only to his guards. 

"Sir!" The guards acknowledged as they readied their weapons against the people.

Before the first blade could fall, a small door next to the gate burst open as a large brown skinned orc rushed out. He was recognizable on sight. He was the young orc that Thrall had brought back from Outlands- hair pulled up into a top knot, sharing the ghost of a likeness with his deceased father, a Warsong tabard proudly displayed and an axe grasped firmly in his right hand. Garrosh Hellscream.

"What are you doing, Captain?!" Garrosh demanded as he stormed in behind the guards. "You would draw Horde blood at the gates of Orgrimmar herself?"

The captain stammered for words, managing a soft "-but the Warchief said-"

"I don't care what the Warchief said!" He yelled again before picking up a guard by the back of his armor and tossing him to the side, effectively creating a hole in the barricade for the refugees to break through. The panicked bodies easily took that small opening and pushed their way through, some even managing to praise Garrosh for saving their life, before rushing through the open guard door and into safety.

However, it was when one blood elf with long golden hair and flashing green eyes accompanied by a bearish looking night elf rushed through the line that Garrosh's attention was drawn. "Was that..." he questioned softly, before another unnatural shriek pierced the air.

Out in the dirt of the road, the partially-eaten tauren twitched and thrashed until he too staggered to his feet, eyes misting with a bright blue glow. His head lolled to one side as he stood there for a long moment, watching everything unfold with unfocused eyes.

Lo’Gosh was still managing to hold the snarling female ghoul at bay, her teeth snapping and clawing- desperately trying to reach him, when he saw the tauren move. 

"SHIT!" He cursed as the tauren came stampeding past him to the unprotected crowd. Right as the ghoul was lowering his horns to charge, Lo’Gosh heard a loud crack of lightning that shocked the creature enough to lose his footing and fall to the ground.

Rehgar made a frustrated sound as he stepped between the tauren and the crowd. "I can't believe I'm as dumb as you, Crocbait,” he chided as Lo’Gosh shot him a smirk.

Finally accepting that a retreat was in order, the guards switched tactics and fully parted, assisting the rest of the surviving refugees into the city. As the mob of bodies dwindled, Lo’Gosh and Rehgar's fight became apparent. 

"Kill the ghouls,” Garrosh ordered as he led the charge into the fray.

With the guards on their side, the ghouls were quickly outnumbered and cut down. Their final shrieks left an ominous silence in their wake.

"Burn the bodies. I won't have their filth contaminating the city." Garrosh ordered one guard, who quickly ran off to do as he was told.

Lo’Gosh gasped and turned toward the sound. He recognized that voice instantly- It was the same voice that had whispered impossible promises to him in the night, the one he had dreamed about ever since Rehgar took them away from the city. 

When he looked at Garrosh, he saw that the orc’s gold eyes were already on him. Garrosh stared at him in silence, almost stunned that the human was really standing in front of him. 

And that made Lo’Gosh nervous- what if his last few months of longing were one-sided? What if the orc's previous adoration of him was just some young fling, like Rehgar had insisted.  
Swallowing around a lump in his throat that wasn’t there only a moment ago, he broke their awkward silence, "I guess you are some kind of hero."

Lo’Gosh wasn't sure what he expected Garrosh's reaction to be, but pulling him into a tight embrace wasn't it. 

Garrosh pressed their foreheads together and let out a shaky breath, "You're alive."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~


End file.
